Maritime Literature

Two Black Hens: Feminine Representation
in Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness

23AUG1999

The recurrent image into pre?conscious terrors -
To explore womb, or tomb, or dreams; all these are usual
Pastimes and drugs, and features of the press:
- T. S. Elliot

Mouth to her Womb. Oomb, All wombing Tomb.
- James Joyce


One of the truths of Marlow's tale in The Heart of Darkness is that the frontier is darkness, a wild untamed mystery, and our own prehistory under assault from the lies of domestication and civility. In his view, this truth requires a lie to be told to maintain and protect cultural authority and hegemony; this is an old lie used to support the conquest of a new frontier, in the same way that male power requires the lie of women's inferiority. A hint of this is the framing of a tale of the Roman conquest of London, used to support Marlow's story of economic conquest of the Congo region. Marlow's primary role as narrator is to describe the dark light of another voice heard in his horror-filled landscape that illuminates this lie within the truth. Some of the voices that are nearly absent, except for token representation or 'framing', are those of feminine characters. Their absence speaks volumes to those accustomed to hearing in this silence an intentional marginalization; this firmly sets these women into a category of one and two?dimensional symbols meant to evoke emotion or derision rather than invoke believability or empathy. What little voice which is allowed to pass through women's lips supports this observation and corroborates the lies which maintain their marginalized state, or as Bette London posits in 'Reading Race and Gender in Conrad's Dark Continent', for Marlow "women and lie are interchangeable." These lies help to support the illusion of civility that domestication requires. One of the lies Marlow sets up for us is "the idea of the "noble experiment"; yet another altar that we daily make sacrifice to, and which allows "the horror" of colonization to be accepted by those safely ensconced between the butcher and the policeman.
Marlow's aunt is the first woman seen in the text, even though she has the agency to aid her nephew in getting his commission, it is represented as being at his instigation. "The men said 'My dear fellow,' and did nothing. Then - would you believe it? - I tried the women. I Charlie Marlow, set the women to work - to get a job"(498:13-16). His description of her home is one of prim and proper domestication, where one has "long quiet chats by the fireside" over a "decent cup of tea" (503:30-31; 28). She represents the cultured woman of privilege who although "living in the rush of all that humbug" was derided for being "quite out of touch with truth" (504: 8?9; 15-16). The truth she is out of touch with is that of experience, like Marlow's and Kurtz's, as opposed to the "rot let loose in the press" (504:7).
The next women we meet are silent observers of the long stream of young men seeking access to the trade company's work along that serpentine river leading into the heart of darkness. Their silence is less representative of their powerlessness though, for they can be easily placed in the role of the Fates, "knitting their black wool feverishly" like the skein of the young men's fate whom they usher through "the door of darkness" (501:17; 33). The thin one is seen "walking back and forth introducing" not unlike Clotho spinning the yarn of fate, while the old one "with a glance of unconcerned wisdom ... swift and indifferent placidity" is reminiscent of Lachesis who measures out the length of that fate (501:29; 26). The obviousness of this connection to the Fates is found in the lines, "She seemed to know all about them and about me, too ... She seemed uncanny and fateful"(501:29-32). Atropis is not imaged in this scene, leading to conjecture that thewilderness about to be encountered holds her sharp bite. "Ave! Old knitter of black wool. Morituri te salutant. Not many of those she looked at ever saw her again - not half, by a long way"(502:1-4).
These two models of the feminine can be seen in sharper light in the means by which Marlow has gotten his commission. The previous Captain of his "two-penny-halfpenny riverboat steamer', a Dane named Fresleven, was killed because of a perceived economic slighting over two black hens. These hens are but a small aspect of the story, although they are the agents that bring Marlow to Kurtz and into the heart of darkness. The scene describing Fresleven's death illustrates what often becomes of the activities of colonial powers among indigenous peoples, for after the natives flee at the fear of "further calamities", never to return, their homes are left to fall in to decay and rot. "What became of the hens ... I should think the cause of progress got them, anyhow"(499:28-29). The cause of progress can only mean two things, domestication or death, the womb or the tomb.
The woman, who like the two black hens whose importance in the overall story is minimal, is significant in that she is the image of woman as the "noble experiment." "Then I noticed a small sketch in oils, on a panel, representing a woman, draped and blindfolded, carrying a lighted torch. The background was somber - almost black. The movement of the woman was stately, and the effect of the torchlight on the face was sinister' (523:13-17). This is blind justice bringing the light of reason to the Dark Continent'. She is full of civility but capable of savagery in order to impose culture on the heathen who live on the periphery of gentile society. Like Athena, in the service of masculine authority, she is responsible for civil society and the culture of arts and letters; she does not represent the womb and tomb, but the sword and the quill, tools of conquest and economy. She is therefore in opposition to the flesh and blood images of women we are given and as such represents the ideal image of woman blameless for the fall and bearer of civilization's gifts to the dark regions of the world.
This same imagery of womb and tomb, as seen in the women of Marlow's story, is re-presented in the women of Kurtz's story, although here the imaging is obvious. The first of these women could very well have been a personification of Athena, before she was whitewashed and sexually denuded into a mouthpiece for the patriarchy of Zeus and his brothers. "She walked with measured steps ... treading the earth proudly. She carried her head high ... there was something ominous and stately in her deliberate progress"(577:27-29; 578; 3-4). Although she is directly connected with "the immense wilderness, the colossal body of the fecund and mysterious life" as if she were the" image of its own tenebrous and passionate soul"(578:5?9) and consequently the womb from which life springs, she is mute in Marlow's depiction of her. We are told she is capable of voice, as she "talked like a fury" to Kurtz. Yet she is described to us as having a "a tragic and fierce aspect of wild sorrow and of dumb pain mingled with the fear of some struggling, half-shaped resolve"(578:12?14), as though she depended on some signal from Kurtz to act. "Suddenly she opened her bared arms and through them up rigid above her head, as though in an uncontrollable desire to touch the sky"(578:23-25) in mute pleading, caught between the desire for her people and the "great man".
This same action will be seen towards the end of Marlow's interview with the last woman of this story, Kurtz's Intended. She is imaged in contrast to the Matriarch of the Wild, as dressed "all in black, with a pale head, floating towards me"(598:17-18), she "seemed surrounded by an ashy halo"(598:28) reminiscent of the idealized woman of Kurtz's painting. He connects Kurtz's death with her sorrow as they shake hands, placing her firmly in the realm of the dead or the tomb, as "she was one of those creatures that are not the playthings of Time' (599:1). Even though she has a voice, which we are allowed to hear, her words constantly revolve about faith, fidelity, belief, love and the sorrow, which these, due to Kurtz's death, have brought her. The impression is plain to see, her life is now forfeit to that sorrow and she will remain nothing more than a shade, devoted to the memory of her "great man". "She put out her arms as if after a retreating figure, stretching them black and with clasped pale hands ... I shall see her, too, a tragic and familiar Shade, resembling in this gesture another one, tragic also, and bedecked with powerless charms, stretching bare brown arms over the glitter of the infernal stream, the stream of darkness"(602:6-7; 10-14). The stream of darkness, infernal and serpentine is yet one more manifestation of the mute and co-opted feminine in this tale of horror, which suggests the basis for this marginilization she and her kind suffer at these men's hands.
The horror is not what Kurtz sees, or what he has become participant to, but the lies, which for Marlow have " a taint of death, a flavor of mortality ... which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world - what I want to forget. It makes me miserable and sick, like biting something rotten would do"(526:17-21). These lies he must ten, otherwise the truth would illuminate that very same thing he connects them with, death, mortality, and the rot of an apple. This shows him making a conscious choice between nightmares; the one that gives voice to the horror, or the other, which helps to hide the horror and shield those who live in fear and ignorance of its darkness. Bette London points out "In the world of Marlow's desire, women and lies have no place; as agents of corruption they must be kept out."
There are three lies, which Marlow suggests: two he voices and one he implies. These lies are corollary to "the idea ? something you can set up, bow down before, and offer a sacrifice to"(496:1?3), and for this reason it is what Marlow wants to forget, what many want to forget. The first lie is in relation to the Matriarch of the Wild who represents the womb, the mystery of life, that which has been set up or manifest from the beginning and has been consequently held to blame for the darkness. "They live in a world of their own, and there had never been anything like it, and never can be. It is too beautiful altogether, and if they were to set it up it would go to pieces before the first sunset"(504:16-20). The second he is the most obvious as it is given at the end of the interview with the Intended and relates Kurtz's final words, according to Marlow. This lie signifies the polite world of domestication, which we daily bow down to so as to maintain the social order nestled between the butcher and the policeman. "We must help them to stay in that beautiful world of their own, lest ours gets worse"(558:31-33). These two lies help to illustrate the final lie, unspoken but implied in the words, "Some confounded fact we men have been living contentedly with ever since the day of creation would start up and knock the whole thing over"(504:20-22). It is the lie of history, sacrifices heaped upon the altar of colonization and conquest or as Bette London succinctly suggests "the lies that support cultural authority ... they function to expose the fables of identity which the voice of cultural authority has achieved."
Conrad has been seen as a sexist and a racist because of these lies of Marlow's. He like Marlow is caught in the web of deceit; this nightmare that is civilized society. Theirs is a place where appearances are more important to maintain than truth, for the truth would cast a sinister glow upon the face of their actions and ideas. He and Marlow are products of their culture and its long sordid history. The inconsistencies in their depiction of reality are informed by their acculturation. To turn to Bette London again, "ideology determines not only what an observer writes, but what a first-hand observer sees." Consciously or unconsciously the depiction of women in The Heart of Darkness show the greater fear that men harbor in their own hearts of darkness, that their idea or "noble experiment" is based on "unsound practices" and faulty reasoning. Marlow and consequently Conrad's choice to paint women as the cause of, and reason for, the lie that continues to be told in order to maintain cultural authority and consequently the worship of the idea of colonization is an old lie masquerading as apology. This is doubly ironic in that Marlow is represented in the final scene as a Buddha giving voice to the truth within his lie to those who are responsible for the horror of the killing grove tomb. And as yet another male demagogue preaching detachment from desires and the inherent darkness of the wombanly world, while reaping (sic raping) the benefits of the patriarchal culture of power and authority over the same.